Okay, I read the OP. The name Ultraviolet comes from part of her gear. She has these gloves she controls telepathically via a headband, and there's a strip of ultraviolet lights along the knuckles, for detecting blood, hidden messages, and whatnot. There's also a strip of infrared lights, and LED lights on the fingertips. Those are mainly for pissing people off.

(lmao i just want to stay productive if the creative juices for other stuff arent flowing. like with mm2 right now. kinda lost my direction with that is the best way to put it i guess lol. anyway attempts are being made but really i didnt write down the plot so i only remember it vaguely. just enough to know it was shit basically)

im so sorry aaron and fuse and saivel and just sorry sorry sorryyyyyyy my children

The question came out of the comfortable silence with no warning but for a soft inhale, a slight adjustment in position: “Hey, whaddya think about sparring, or something?” As the words left her mouth Saivel turned to look at Fuse, who blinked a few times before he looked up, confused. His hands began to make as if to close the book lying on his lap, then stopped while it was still half-open.

Instead of an answer, he gave a soft question in response to Saivel’s suggestion. “…sparring?” It almost sounded as if it was a new word to him, what with how he sounded it out slowly—uncomprehendingly, even. Still gripping the book, his fingers twitched with uncertainty; the book remained half-open. Uncertain what to do, Fuse ended up staring at Saivel blankly.

“Yeah, sparring. It’s fighting. But not.” Saivel spread her hands out in front of her melodramatically, a deathly serious look on her face. She coughed into her fist, then demurely placed her hands on her lap and continued, not holding back on the sarcasm. “It’s amazing, you should try it some time. By which I mean right now, with me.”

There was a brief pause (during which Fuse continued to stare at her blankly, book still not quite closed in his lap) before she added, “Not literally right now. You—you know what I mean.”

Fuse stopped staring blankly and let the book close, seeming to finally understand. He answered, belatedly, “Um, sure. To the, to sparring. Sounds, uh, good.” Realizing how awkward his speech sounded, he smiled, though it was also quite awkward. The whole thing was just so ridiculous Saivel started snickering despite herself, fading off as Fuse’s expression began to shift into bemusement.

She collected herself with one last snicker she barely covered up by pressing her knuckles against her lips. “If you’re not up to it, you don’t have to do it.” Although her voice was somewhat muffled by the fact her hand was still in front of her mouth, Fuse could hear her clearly enough to become slightly indignant.

He straightened up in his seat with an irritated pout. “I am ‘up to it,’ I just… the question… took me off guard. Didn’t really expect you to just suggest it out of nowhere.”

Saivel put both her hands out in a pacifying gesture, trying and failing to hide the smirk on her lips. She placated Fuse gently (“alright, alright, I get it, calm down”) before continuing on with, “If I recall correctly, there’s an empty room somewhere we can use. Do we have… wooden swords or something like that anywhere?”

“I’m not sure,” Fuse admitted. “I’ll have to look around… how about you go there, and wait—actually that doesn’t work, hold on. Um… I’ll see if I can find any, you wait here. Okay?”

Leaning backwards in her chair, Saivel laughed, “’course I’m okay with you doing manual labor instead of me. Knock yourself out.” As Fuse mouthed ‘really?’ she grinned back, before he set down his closed book beside him, stood, turned, and walked out of the room in search of non-lethal weaponry.

*~*~*~*

From one foot to the other, Saivel kept on shifting, never staying still, always moving. That seemed to be the case with her in general, needing movement and excitement all of the time. “Come on,” she whined as Fuse remained stooped over, hesitating to straighten up after picking up the wooden sword, “what’re you waiting for?”

Something was bothering him, something in the back of his head. It seemed to squirm away whenever Fuse tried to pinpoint it and figure out what it was. “Sorry,” he apologized on instinct, standing up right away.

“Took ya long enough, lords.” Saivel continued her repetitive dance from foot to foot, moving to the left, then to the right, then back to the left again. “Fight me, Fuse!” she exclaimed good-naturedly, grinning.

Even as the something kept niggling at him, Fuse couldn’t help but smile. “I get first blow, huh? How gracious of you,” he teased, one of his rarer sarcastic moments.

“Yeah, I’m great like that. Come on, Fuse.” Moving her sword into one hand, Saivel hit her chest with the free one. Fuse adjusted his position slightly, preparing himself. Apparently ignorant of his impending strike, Saivel continued to tease. “What’re you afraid of?”

Just as he was about to move, Fuse faltered, froze. Those words were terribly familiar.

“What’re you afraid of?”

The taste of blood in his mouth, metallic. (Where did it come from he couldn’t remember)

“I thought you said you’d do anything to stop me. Or was that you? I forget. Things get all muddled up in this head of mine. Awfully disordered in here.”

Sword heavy arms heavy legs heavy tired, weary. (But the sword was wood the sword was metal a cold hilt in his hands)

“Come on! Aren’t you supposed to be the best of the best? Better than the king, even. Well, now it’s time to prove it!”

“What’re you afraid of, A—“ (What was at the end of that sentence he wasn’t sure why wasn’t he sure)

“WHAT’RE YOU AFRAID OF?”

“Fuse? Fuse? Fuse!” Hands on his shoulders; instinctively he struck out, panicked, found himself sprawled on the floor with Saivel sitting with her legs folded under herself. She was looking at him, worried. Saivel worried. Saivel genuinely worried and showing it, not just saying so with a well-meaning punch on the shoulder in the way that meant she was, underneath all that bravado and insensitivity. Fear on her face. Saivel didn’t like to look afraid.

He couldn’t breathe right, couldn’t find the air properly. “Fuse—” Saivel reached out hesitantly, and he looked from her hands to her face, meeting her eyes (purple eyes purple eyes), then immediately scrabbled further away. “Fuse, what—”

Breaths were more shuddering gasps than breaths, too quick and not enough. Was he crying?

Once again, she said his name, hands slowly dropping to her sides. “Fuse?" The words 'are you okay' died in her throat; obviously, he wasn't okay. Lords, she didn't know what to do. Should she get Kaime? Could she get Kaime? Even lost as she was, Saivel got the distinct feeling Fuse should not be left alone. But she didn't know what to do. Oh, lords.

Kaime would know what to do, but Kaime wasn't there and she couldn't get Kaime. Somehow, she needed to calm down Fuse. He was still seated on the floor, now curled up tightly on himself, arms wrapped around his legs with his face hidden behind his knees. His breathing--he was breathing too fast, with terrible heart wrenching sobs that made Saivel's heart break a little just hearing them.

"Fuse, you--you need to calm down." She swallowed, trying to think think think of anything that she could use to help Fuse. "Take--deep breaths, breathe--breathe with me. Can--try, please."

Not even sure whether or not Fuse had registered her words, Saivel did her best to breathe deeply, in and out slow and steady. What felt like a ton of bricks lifted off of her shoulders as she saw Fuse was struggling to follow her example, inhaling and exhaling evenly only for his breathing to be interrupted by yet another erratic burst of breaths that were too fast.

"Yeah--breathe, breathe deeply, it's--breathe with me. In--" Saivel breathed in, taking her sweet time with it, inhaling until she thought she couldn't any longer and then for a few more seconds. "--out." She exhaled slowly, watching Fuse with a careful eye. Hoping.

She wasn't entirely sure how long she kept encouraging Fuse to 'breathe with me,' but eventually it seemed the method paid off, or at least his breathing was back under control. It didn't escape her notice that his cheeks were damp with tears. Fuck, what happened? Was it her fault? He'd just--frozen, and then he'd fallen like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Fuse, what happened?" There was the fear Fuse had seen in Saivel's voice, shaking her voice, making it all wavery. He lifted his head slightly, looking straight into her eyes with his own slightly puffy ones.

Purple eyes. But... her eyes were a different shade of purple. Not bright purple, practically glowing with malevolence and chaos. The purple of her eyes was darker, more subdued, not the same. Different. Saivel's purple eyes. Not--

Saivel seemed slightly anxious when her eyes met Fuse's and immediately diverted her gaze. After a few moments her eyes flicked back, only to find him still staring straight at her. Fuse lifted up his head a little more, just enough to prop his chin on his knees.

What had she asked him? 'Fuse, what happened?' He didn't know. For a few more moments he continued staring in silence but for his occasional sniffles. Finally, he hesitantly opened his mouth and tried to speak.

"I--" His voice was terrible. Fuse swallowed, then cleared his throat and tried again. "I just--" Words were failing him. "I remembered something," he finally managed to get out.

"You... remembered?" Saivel's shock was more than evident. "What did you remember?"

His throat choked up again. "I was--" At the end of the word his voice caught with that horrid noise that meant he was about to cry. "It was--bad."

Saivel's mouth formed an 'oh,' an 'oh' she said so softly no one heard it. "What did you remember?"

blood in mouth sword heavy body heavy tired so so tired crying i don't want this i don't want to hurt you there has to be another way

purple eyes

there is no other way why why i don't want this i don't want this

Fuse pressed his lips against each other to form a thin white line, and took a little time before he spoke. "Let's--not spar, again."

"S-sure. Sure, we can--do that." Saivel's lips were turned down in the very slightest frown. What had Fuse remembered that made that happen? "Um, we should put all this junk away then."

"...yeah, we should," Fuse agreed.

"You gonna get off of the floor anytime soon?" questioned Saivel, intending for it to be lighthearted as she stood and brushed off her pants. Evidently Fuse wasn't as amused as she'd hoped he would be, hiding his face behind his knees and shaking his head. "Suit yourself, then."

His sword had clattered a few feet to his left when he'd backed away from her earlier. It was a simple, inelegant thing, hilt rough in Saivel's hand as she walked over and stooped to pick it up. Fuse remained on the floor, unmoving. She cleared her throat. "You... need anything? Should I get Kaime?"

"I'll be fine," he assured her weakly. Unconvincing was the nicest way to describe it. Pitiful would be more accurate.

Several plans of action ran through Saivel's mind. First of all, she could get Kaime, but even if the worst of it seemed to be over, she still felt she shouldn't leave Fuse alone. All of the other plans were discarded, eventually settling on talking to him. Saivel grilled the wooden sword's hilt hard, knuckles turning white. She bit her lip and tried to think of something.

"No, you won't be." As Fuse glanced up at her, she shook her head with force. "You're not."

When no response was forthcoming, Saivel set both her sword and Fuse's against the wall. The wood made a soft thump as she propped them up. Silence remained as she made her way over to Fuse, turning on her heel in front of him to crouch down. Though he tried to avoid her gaze, she looked right at his eyes.

"Fuse. You don't want to talk about it. I get that. Sometimes you got shit that you don't want to or maybe plain fucking can't talk about." Her words growing in volume, Saivel leaned forward. "But don't lie and say you're fine when you're not. Nobody gets shit when you do that. You don't get better and they get worse, 'cause they know you're lying. S'just nobody's got the courage to say it."

"You ought to listen to your own advice," Fuse snapped, wrapping his arms tighter around himself.

She would never admit it, but his words struck her where it hurt. Through her teeth, she hissed, "You listen to it first, Fuse. You need it more right now."

"And you haven't needed it for a long time?"

"Who's the one curled up in a ball on the floor right now?" she shot back, becoming irritated. "Where the hell'd this shit come from?"

Completely ignoring her last question, Fuse retorted to the first instead. "Who's the one spending our coin on alcohol and drinking herself to fucking--"

He stopped himself suddenly, realization hitting him of what he was saying. It was an unspoken rule that they didn't talk about Saivel drinking. Saivel was staring with wide eyes, hands curled into tight fists. She looked as if she might cry. "I'm sorry, I just..."

"I'll be fine." The repetition of his own words was oddly jarring, somehow piercing to his core. Saivel wiped her eyes with hasty motions. "Let's just get the fuck out of this room."

Before Fuse could respond to her suggestion, Saivel had already stood and offered him a hand to get up. He took it, her grip strong though he was shaking, and she pulled him to his feet.

They walked in silence, neither wanting to admit that both of them needed Saivel's advice. Doors and rooms passed, the sun's dying light streaming through windows out of place in the dark silence that had settled between them. When they came to the very room where they'd started, Fuse broke the silence.

tfw you remember old-ass stories you wrote ages ago and how incredibly shitty they sre

lmao there were all these convoluted plotlines and continuity errors and mary-sue self-inserts like she was a demigod and also a descendant of the creator of the universe and half-djinn and later on became a god??? and had a daughter she had to abandon to protect her or some shit mAN that shit was wild

and don't get me started on the other ones there were like three other shameless as shit self-inserts one of which was the daughter of the antagonist in an incredible ~plot twist~ and the other was actually the sister of the prince who wasn't actually the prince by blood but adopted because the actual prince was dead

(lmao at least i wasn't alone my friends all wrote in shameless self-inserts too)

...i want to revisit and rewrite it ._.

(also realistic fiction is Just Not the Genre for me, i just have to say that)

before im not really sure what the fuck was up with the time period. but probably now it's going to basically just be modern times with magic thrown in

not entirely sure how magic works??? i've kinda liked the concept of each spell actually taking form kinda as a prayer to the gods/magical power corresponds somewhat to piousness? lmao idk

im not sure... exactly how that would work? the gods aren't. exactly gods. i mean like, yeah, but they're also kinda more like els in that they get replaced every so often. not so like els in that it's a literal job. like. their actual job, they have contracts and everything

as for plot...

the plot was all over the place so i'm not sure how to. solidify it. or really start on it at all lmao